Page 42 of Metatron
“Let me eat her eyes. Pop them like juicy grapes,” Isadora begged, and I almost puked.
“No maiming her. She’s a gift to the Dark Lord. Hold her arms for me so I can secure her,” the prince ordered his creepy daughter. Isadora grabbed me by the wrists and slammed my arms over my head.
Her order to keep still had me in its grip once more, and I couldn’t even protest as the cuffs went on, the metal of them cold.
Isadora rolled from me and got to her feet before she yanked me to mine.
“Are we taking her to my lair?” Isadora asked.
“We aren’t doing anything,” Astaroth declared before slicing his hand through the air.
I blinked as one moment Isadora had a head, and the next, it went flying, right over the edge of the parapet. The body collapsed, as did her spell holding me.
In shock, I exclaimed, “You killed your daughter.”
“She outlived her use,” Astaroth drawled. “Time to go. I do believe Metatron is done playing with the decoys.”
Decoys? AKA the imps. They’d flown off as part of a plan to separate us. This whole thing had been a trap. “How did you know we’d be here?”
“Because I have an inside source.”
“Who?”
“Someone you’d never expect,” Astaroth said with a smirk. He glanced overhead and stated quite clearly, “We’re ready to come aboard.”
Aboard what?”
A cloud of darkness enveloped us, not long enough for me to panic. I saved that when I could see again and found myself somewhere else.
“Where am I?” I asked, glancing around at the pulsing black walls and floor with their streaks of red.
“On the scout ship sent to retrieve me. Say hello to our pilot.” A glance showed someone with four arms and eyes literally on the back of their head.
It waved.
I gaped.
The thing in front of the console chittered, the sound a series of clicks and whistles. Astaroth replied. “Yes, we can go now. I have what I need.” His smile focused on me. “Since you’re probably curious, we’re on our way to Hell, a place no angel has ever dared to enter.”
Meaning I could forget rescue.
Fuck.
Chapter 13
It took Metatron a second to process Zilla’s announcement. “What do you mean Francesca’s been taken by a demon?”
“Those imps and the attack on the pope appear to have been a ruse to distract and separate you.”
The news rocked Metatron. “Why didn’t you beam her out before she got caught?”
He could hear the sorrow as Zilla replied, “I lost all ability to see or transport the moment the imps attacked.”
Meaning a demon, one strong enough to null signals in the area.
“I’m sorry,” the cantorii said, and it was in that moment that it occurred to him they spoke. As in an actual conversation. To think, it never happened before because of the HALO. Now that he’d removed it, he felt no different than before other than the fact he spoke to his vessel, an intelligent being as it turned out. It blew him away like a hurricane wind on the planet aero, a place of mostly gases and floating island balls.
“What a mess,” he muttered, rubbing his face.